


My R

by pangendee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Dean Winchester, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Dean Winchester Needs a Hug, Episode: s15e07 Last Call, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Pianist Dean Winchester, Selectively Mute Dean Winchester, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26154004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pangendee/pseuds/pangendee
Summary: “His fingers started moving. It was a simple melody, actually quite lovely to listen to. The notes were quick and upbeat, not fully conveying his thoughts. It could’ve been a lullaby if he didn’t know the horrible words by heart.”Where Dean can’t speak after Lee’s death, and there’s a piano in the bunker
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Lee Webb/Dean Winchester
Comments: 20
Kudos: 92





	My R

There was a piano in the bunker. 

Dean wasn’t sure if the others knew it was there. He had been the first to find it and never told anyone else. He liked that, having something for himself. It didn’t happen often. 

He got back to the bunker a while ago. Around 6:00, he thought. Now it was 3:15 in the morning and everything was dead silent. Sam was in a deep sleep. Eileen was too, probably. Cas was... well he was somewhere. Most likely the library. Even if he was moving, it wouldn’t matter; he’s silent no matter what.

Dean hadn’t said a word other than making sure Sam was really okay. In fact, he stopped speaking the moment he drove that cue stick into Lee's chest, and he had a feeling he’d be quiet the next day too. And the day after that, and the day after that, and Lee didn’t deserve this ending and he couldn’t voice what he thought no matter how much he wanted to because it’s all too much... 

So, piano. It was far enough away from Sam’s room and the library that no one would hear if he played quietly. Besides, as far as Cas was concerned, he was asleep.

Dean ignored the fact that Cas wouldn’t seek him out anyway.

Of course, he had to figure out what to play first. The obvious answer was Good ‘Ol Boys, but the pain was too fresh and too recent and too there to be able to get through even the opening notes without throwing his bottle of whiskey across the room and sobbing. 

He managed a sad, bitter smile when the next song that came to mind was Angel. Charlie played it for him once, the day after she dragged him to a Pride parade in San Francisco. She knew. Dean wasn’t afraid that she knew. In fact, if he wanted anyone to know, it was her. 

He still had the picture she took of them, Dean with a bisexual flag bracelet on full display and Charlie with the lesbian flag draped across her shoulders. He still had the bracelet and the flag, and Sam still didn’t know what happened those three days in California. 

All these keepsakes were in a box under the floorboards under his bed. Only he could get into it, courtesy of warding and Rowena. 

Rowena knew too.

Dean missed her, even if he wouldn’t admit it. He missed them both so damn much. He wasn’t able to speak when Charlie died either. 

He didn’t want to play Angel. He didn’t want to think about Charlie. He didn’t want to think about Cas leaving. He didn’t want to think about not stopping him. 

Dean rested his fingers on the keys, willing the perfect song to come to mind. Dear Agony? Alex showed him that one. But he was still learning it. The End? He didn’t want to think about that. Just the name reminded him of his asshole 2014 self. 

He might still be an asshole but at least he didn’t send his friends on a suicide mission. 

Suicide... No! No. Do not think that. Not now. Not yet. 

Kill God. Then put a bullet through your skull. If only either of those were that simple. 

His fingers started moving. It was a simple melody, actually quite lovely to listen to. The notes were quick and upbeat, not fully conveying his thoughts. It could’ve been a lullaby if he didn’t know the horrible words by heart. 

Claire showed him this song years ago. It was on her laptop and he decided to listen. Dean ended up having to have a long talk with her. She promised she wouldn’t do what the song said. So far, she’s kept that promise. 

He saw it again on a victim’s computer months after that. Once he and Sam killed the monster of the week (a siren), he also had a talk with her. As far as Dean was concerned, she’s still okay. 

He listened to the song on his own more than he’d care to admit. Played it on the old piano so many times it was almost a reflex. He cried as he played the notes. Cried for all that he’s lost, and he knew it was selfish to think that. He didn’t lose everything like Cas did, or his conscience like Lee. Everything he lost was his fault. He was poison, a curse, and everyone knew it. So he poured his heart out in a nice melody with horrible words. 

“Hey, don’t do it please.”

He wasn’t aware of the angel standing outside the door, recording his playing. He wasn’t aware that the angel sent that recording to Claire, asking if she knew the song. He wasn’t aware of the way the angel’s heart dropped when he was replied to with a link and a message that said, “Help him.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic so please be gentle and point out any mistakes


End file.
